 Item Number – SCP-370 Object Class – Keter Warning! SCP-370 is an exceedingly contagious memetic infection. No cases of personnel being infected simply from reading this article have yet been recorded, but nevertheless, as a precaution, this document may only be read in a controlled environment, with mechanisms in place to terminate the reader at the first symptoms. Spreading any information about SCP-370 by word of mouth is grounds for immediate termination. Special Containment Procedures – SCP-370 itself is embedded in a small slab of solid lead and kept inside a solid steel box with no openings and 0.5 meter thick walls. Under no circumstances is SCP-370 to be removed from either this box or the lead slab. If SCP-370 becomes partially or completely exposed, blindfolded personnel will be assigned to locate it with a metal detector. An electromagnet will then be used to transfer SCP-370 to a small mold filled with molten lead. Once this is hardened, the lead slab containing SCP-370 will be returned to its steel box, and the box returned to its containment vault. This box is kept in a specially designed vault at Site-1. SCP-370 requires no maintenance whatsoever and no research is authorized. Desire to open this vault to perform research on SCP-370, or for any other reason, is a symptom of SCP-370 infection. Any personnel displaying this or any other symptoms must be quarantined immediately and terminated if symptoms persist. SCP-370's vulnerability status is unknown. No testing of this sort has been carried out, and no future testing is authorized due to the extreme risk of contagion to personnel involved. D-class personnel with significant violent or sadistic tendencies are to be preferred in all interactions with SCP-370, or potentially SCP-370 contagious data. All live broadcasting capability will be removed from any foundation site that shows signs of SCP-370 presence, and restored one year after the last SCP-370 event. Any personnel assigned to SCP-370 who show a sudden improvement in overall well-being should be quarantined and deprived of sleep. If any personnel continue to display happiness symptoms, despite this measure, termination will be authorized. Description, SCP-370 is a key. The size, shape, material, and general appearance of SCP-370 are unknown. Knowledge of these characteristics is the primary vector for the spread of the SCP-370 disease. Therefore, all records thought to contain such information have been destroyed without review. The disease caused by SCP-370 has three distinct sets of symptoms. Designations, SCP-370-A, B, and C. The form of the disease appearing in any given subject appears to be determined primarily by personality. SCP-370A manifests most frequently in subjects characterized by their peers as self-centered, or cowardly. It is the most common manifestation. Subjects suffering from SCP-370A show no symptoms upon the initial infection. However, these subjects will commit suicide as soon as they have an opportunity to do so, with minimal suffering. For example, SCP-370A victims will jump from high ledges or shoot themselves in the head with firearms, but will not cut their own wrists or hang themselves. The instant the subject's heart ceases to beat, the infected corpse will glow brilliantly and undergo an unknown transformation. Detailed knowledge of the transformation is a vector for the infection, as is direct visual contact with the light produced. No trace of any part of a subject's corpse has ever been recovered following this transformation. The majority of SCP-370B subjects are commonly described as both extroverted and altruistic. However, an identical manifestation of SCP-370B appears in individuals with strong sadistic or violent tendencies. Subjects infected with SCP-370B initially become very calm. This stage lasts for several seconds and is followed by a sudden unprovoked assault on anyone within the subject's reach, which continues into an indiscriminate killing spree. Persons killed by the infected subject will glow brightly and undergo an unknown transformation, presumably the same or similar to that of the suicides. Initially, the infected subject is no more dangerous than any ordinary violent human. However, after approximately killing 2-3 victims, the subject's body will begin to radiate yellow light. This light appears to inhibit the sympathetic nervous response of the subject's victims, making it difficult for victims to fight back. After approximately 5-6 successful kills, the light triples in intensity and the direct skin-to-skin contact with the subject becomes deadly. At this point, any eye contact with the victim becomes a contagious factor. After killing an average of 12 victims, subjects who were considered violent prior to infection may require as many as 50 kills to reach this stage. The subject will abruptly cease hostilities and enter the final phase of SCP-370B infection. Subjects will raise its arms skyward and shout in a slightly amplified voice. Take me home. This sound seems to pass through soundproof walls, an industrial-strength earmuffs with only slight muffling. Infection of all human beings within earshot is virtually guaranteed, except in case of sensory deafness. After this cry, a shaft of radiation in the visible spectrum forms around the subject who will then levitate several feet above the ground before waking and vanishing. As with SCP-370A, no traces of the vanished subjects have ever been found. SCP-370C manifests in subjects of high IQ and analytical or contemplative personality type and is the most dangerous of the three manifestations. Unfortunately, the majority of the Foundation's research staff are susceptible to SCP-370C. Upon initial infection, subjects will close their eyes and remain voluntarily still and silent for an average of 30 seconds. If questioned on this, subjects will claim to have been praying. Any infected subjects detected at this stage must be terminated immediately and by any means necessary. After the initial infection, subjects will behave as normal, but with significant increase in sense of well-being. This system persists even when the subject is forced into unpleasant conditions. Infected subjects seem to possess SCP-370 contagious knowledge about the appearance and exact nature of SCP-370, whether or not they have ever been exposed to such information. Subjects will actively and covertly attempt to spread SCP-370 infection, specifically targeting victims likely to manifest SCP-370A or SCP-370C. These efforts are likely to include, but not limited to, mentioning SCP-370 contagious information and casual conversation, attempting to have SCP-370 removed from containment for research or attempted disposal, adding SCP-370 vectors to Foundation research notes or other documents, including this page. Attempting to broadcast infectious material on a large scale. After about 50 successful infections, SCP-370C enters its final phase. During this phase, the air around the subject radiates a small amount of light in the visible spectrum, creating a faint yellow glow around the subject. This glow induces a parasympathetic calming response in viewers, and has a 0% chance of causing infection for every minute of visual contact. Within about a day of this radiation appearing, regardless of any further successful infections, a flaming data expunged, burn marks on any surfaces it touches or passes through and leaving no trace of the infected subject. This event leaves behind an invisible patch of contagious space, which infects anyone who passes through it. Patches seem to fade in approximately 7 days, but as a precaution, should be avoided for a full 2 weeks. It has become apparent that SCP-370C infection is being used by some personnel as an excuse to torment and murder fellow Foundation staff. The personnel responsible have been demoted to D-Class. However, considering the enormous threat posed by SCP-370C, the containment protocol above will not be revised. Dr. W... Addendum 370A. The circumstances of SCP-370's original retrieval are unknown. It was found in the ruins of Site-1, a remote Foundation base in Eastern... These containment protocols in their original form, and the described steel box, were found in a sealed vault, along with a single corpse, identified as Dr. W... a known Satanist, and the doctor's personal log, which was found to be SCP-370 contagious. The rest of the site was abandoned, and no other dead bodies were found, although signs of struggle were ubiquitous. The rest of the site's stored data on SCP-370 had been erased or destroyed, although a few useful notes on other SCPs were recovered, particularly SCP-370. Several infection events occurred during recovery efforts. These were contained with extreme prejudice, and the infection was believed extinct. SCP-370 was briefly designated safe. However, in light of recent data expunged, Keter designation has been restored, and anti-mimetic security has been tightened throughout all Foundation sites. Addendum 370B. Dr. W's log has been successfully purged of mimetic infectiousness, and is cleared for viewing by authorized personnel. The same precautions described for reading this article also apply to the log. Unit 370A. Personal log of Dr. W... Date. Data absent. 2009. Richard's team came back yesterday. What was left of it anyway? Most of them were wiped out by some sort of mimetic infection. They've also brought back an artifact, a key or something, from the dig. There's something wrong with Richard. He ought to be inconsolable, having lost so many agents, but he just keeps smiling. Meanwhile, work on SCP-370 as ground to a depressing halt. The next battery of tests will involve irrelevant data expunged. Personal log of Dr. W... Date. Data absent. 2009. I was right. I knew there was something abnormal about those smiles. They brought the artifact out today. Half the people who saw the damn thing just started attacking everyone in sight, and had to be put down. The survivors have been quarantined. The bodies of the dead have been incinerated and the survivors are still in quarantine. The artifact recovered has been designated SCP-370. I hate observational mimetic hazards, by the way. How am I supposed to study something if I can't f***ing look at it? Personal log of Dr. W... Date. Data absent. 2009. It's not observational. It's worse. Probably the worst meme we've ever encountered. Reading the notes on the thing seemed to have exactly the same effect as looking at it. It's pure luck I didn't get infected myself. Word of mouth information transfer does the same thing. We've got a full third of our research staff in quarantine now. Or at least we should. Some of them have just disappeared. I'm freaking out here. I did a compassion ritual yesterday. Made me feel a bit better. Details of ritual expunged. Seeing Richard in this state is really messing with my head. He's not himself at all. He's freakishly cheerful, borderline manic, and he's tried to breach the quarantine three times already. Managed to cause several infections by shouting what I assume were details about SCP-370's appearance. I don't even know what information can spread this thing. I personally destroyed a bunch of documents without review earlier today, and had anyone who protested quarantined. Dr. C says I'm being paranoid, so I quarantined him too. Personal log of. Dr. W... Date. Data absent. 2009. Well, I've solved the mystery of the disappearing personnel. Some of the infected commit suicide, and when they do, they vanish with this blinding flash. I caught maybe the very edge of the flash. I'm afraid I'm contaminated I can feel the key hovering around the edges of my mind. If I wanted to, I think I could see it in my head. I've started a write-up of the containment procedure, for if we ever contain the b**** thing, helps me keep my mind off. Well, it. There are three kinds of infections. The murdering kind, the suicidal kind, and the happy kind. Suicides and murderers don't actively try to spread the infection, but deaths caused by 370 all seem to create this infectious light. The happy ones seem mentally unaffected, but their only desire is to spread this thing by any means necessary. They're clever though. They'll pretend not to be affected. The only giveaway is the happiness. Even if you torture them, they show signs of pain but don't seem to care. It doesn't make them unhappy. On the bright side, I had to have a talk with Dr. C via a Class D go-between, and he told me to go f*** myself, so I've let him go. Personal log of Dr. P**** Date Data Absent 2009 We've lost our grip on this thing. Richard and team are still contained, but we have the Smilers wandering free in the base. I've taken to carrying a handgun and just shooting anyone who looks happy. Considering how haggard and miserable most of our staff is, there's not much chance of a false positive. I've sabotaged all the communication systems. We will stop this thing here. The infection in me feels like it's spreading, starting to take a conscious effort not to think about that. There is no god. I am god. Personal log of Dr. P**** Date Data Absent 2009 There is no god. Quarantine had been breached. I'm afraid Dr. C and I may be the only uninfected personnel on site at this point. He's only safe because he was in that quarantine cell for so long. Knowledge is starting to slip. I know things. Expunged. Not know what 370 looks like, but I know expunged. There is no gate. I worship only myself. Personal log of Dr. P**** Date Data Absent 2009 Notes From this point on, the writing gets more and more shaky. Some parts appear illegible, and large segments had to be removed due to memetic contamination. Satan used to be just a symbol to me. A symbol of my own unrepressed desires. A symbol of freedom. I've changed my mind. I pledged expunged. I've performed another ritual, not in the book, just one that came to me. I had to use Dr. C, but I felt a bit bad about that at first. But it's all for the foundation. I have a plan. Expunged, until all the infected have expunged, should provide an opening for me to make contact expunged. If I can get the physical key encased within the molten lead for my experiment with SCP, then expunged until the rest of the foundation finds us. I think I'll stick it in a huge steel box, too. You know, just in case. Personal log of Dr. P**** Date Data Absent 2009 Notes This final entry is written in blood and begins with an outline of a complex and gruesome ritual involving, among other things, the use of 80% of the invoker's blood. Intended purpose of this ritual is unknown and our attempts to recreate it have all failed, with the subjects falling dead from blood loss before completing the procedure. Details of ritual expunged. In the name of adversary I seal the gates. Expunged. Return to your thrones. Personal log of Dr. P**** Date Data Absent 2009 Notes Again, written in blood. Positively identified as Dr. P**** What have I done? My memory is shaky. Not surprising considering what I've been doing to my mind for the past few days. The containment must have been successful, as I find myself sealed in with 370 in this book. Good. The effects of the ritual are beginning to wear off. Feeling extremely woozy. Consciousness fading. What have I done? Ultimate selfishness? Or ultimate sacrifice? Or just ultimate pettiness in spite? I must apologize to Richard. End of log. Lesson complete. If you missed the previous orientation, go watch SCP-369 Living Migratory Roadwork. Right now. Or for the complete course, watch this playlist.